The Good in Sin

The Nerve of Him

With eyes downcast, Phoenix didn't see how her nostrils were flaring, but felt as she tensed, and just by the way her back straightened and her breathing changed, it was obvious she had murder in her eyes.

"Let's get you to bed." Was all she said while he stood, still clutching onto her as they went to her bathroom.

They brushed their teeth together, and when Phoenix was about to put his pajamas on and she was stepping out, he called to her, "Can you stay with me? Until-until I go to sleep?"

He was still sniffling, holding back tears. The fear he felt from the story he'd just read wasn't yet overshadowed by the fear he had of losing his new best friend. In the back of his mind he kept picturing the scene- a desolate village, bloody hands, dead animals. It was horrifying.

"I'm sorry, mom." Phoenix said when he was tucked in his bed, Autumn beside him stroking his hair from his forehead.

"Did he not tell you it was scary?"

"He did. I just didn't know it would scare me."

Autumn held back the urge to groan, "Why the hell would you think that?" And kept her frustrations to herself, instead watched his sleepy eyes open and close as if fighting his sleep. "Don't worry, buddy, I'm here." 

And she stayed until he fell asleep, aware that the next day would be rough for the both of them.

It took everything in her not to march over to Sin's house and give her a piece of her mind. That was for tomorrow.

...

The start of his mornings always began with burning hot coffee and a book. Maybe he'd take his coffee outside today. After all his sweater and sweat pants along with his hot mug should be enough to ward off the biting cold- but no. Stepping out in his backyard, he knew immediately that no one could stand this type of cold in what he wore.

It was a quiet morning. He started the fire just so he'd have something to listen to, and focused also on the sound of the birds, but it seemed the whole world decided to sleep in and remain quiet.

He sipped his coffee, settling in his office after opening his blinds, the rising sun warming up the room he sat in. Opening Trevor Noah's Born a Crime, his newest addition to his library, he dove in, allowing himself to transport to South Africa, recalling being there himself a decade ago with his ex girl friend. 

Half an hour into his book, his relaxing silence was broken by a muffled banging.

"What the-" 

Standing, he opened the door from his study and the noise became clearer, a banging at the door. Heading to the hallway, the sound stopped for a second, but he took his sweet time and the banging grew more aggressive. "I'm coming," he snapped, finally getting to the door and swinging it open, ready to give a talking to whoever owned such a heavy fist.

Except his eyes went soft as soon as he saw it was Autumn who stood before him. He saw for the first time her hair down in a beautiful mess of curls, cheeks reddened from the biting cold, dark eyebrows knitted with intensity. Her chest heaved, and he noticed her fist still clenched from banging on his door. 

"Autumn," He began with a smile, "I wasn't expecting you-" 

"What the hell is this?" She demanded, seeming to reject all sorts of kindness he was willing to give her, and he saw in her other clenched fist that she raised, was the manuscript he gave to Phoenix.

His stomach dropped. It fell like the day his mother found his stash of pot in his room when he was sixteen. She was giving him the same look, her eyes cheerless and ferocious, making his heart race in what he felt was not only fear, but attraction. Never had he seen this look on her before. It was dangerous, but enchanting.